


Paradise Found

by rowdyhooligan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Swearing, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 16:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17026422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowdyhooligan/pseuds/rowdyhooligan
Summary: A favor for Sam and Dean goes awry when Gadreel and the reader are caught in an ambush.





	Paradise Found

**Author's Note:**

> cross-posted from tumblr: requested by @eurusholmmes: The prompt is scar kisses, but it would be the reader giving them to Gadreel.

Heart racing, you cursed yourself for agreeing to take this hunt. When Castiel called on behalf of the Winchesters to ask the pair of you to investigate a possible haunted junkyard, Gadreel thought it would be a good way to rack up some brownie points with the brothers. Though you didn’t particularly care for the rather infamous siblings- a lot of good friends had died cleaning up the Winchesters’ messes- your angel was determined to redeem himself in their eyes. Only the fact that they were the ones to introduce the two of you in the first place kept you compliant when he agreed to act as their errand boy.

And now it had all gone to shit. The ‘haunting’ turned out to be a trap intended for Castiel and the dynamic duo; instead, it was you and Gadreel who were suddenly faced with seven pissed off angels. They wasted no time attacking, two of them breaking off to go after you while the rest swarmed Gad. Silver angel blades glinted in the bright light of the noonday sun hanging high over the abandoned junkyard, striking with inhuman speed.

What your opponents hadn’t been counting on was that you’d tangled with angels before. After the Fall, more than one of the winged bastards had crossed your path, angry and looking for an easy target. There had been some close calls, but each and every one of them was now no more than a pair of scorch marks and you were still standing, still alive. And you aimed to stay that way, vowing to kill anyone who threatened you and your angel.

Your first opponent rushed forward only to stop short, looking shocked to find your angel blade buried between his ribs, blood seeping through his shirt. The divine light of grace lit up his features a moment later, but you paid him no mind, already turning to your remaining combatant. She was more cautious, but still cocky, lunging right and left in search of an opening. The sound of metal striking metal rang out behind her as Gadreel faced his own opponents, and your gaze flitted over for a mere second.

The distraction cost you- quick as a snake, her blade flashed and you barely had time to jump back as searing pain blossomed across your torso. The cut was shallow but long, and burned like crazy. With a hiss, you clutched at the injury with one hand and tighten your hold on your weapon with the other, willing your body to ignore the sting and focus on the smirking bitch in front of you.

You flew at her, giving as good as you got. She seemed surprised, then frustrated, that your injury hadn’t slowed you down much. Her irritation made her sloppy- she lashed out again, but you were ready, and twisted out of the way, flipping your grip on your blade and driving it into her back. A strangled cry escaped before she lit up like a spotlight, dropping to the ground unceremoniously, your weapon still buried in her back.

The flare of grace caught the attention of Gadreel’s attackers. One of them ran at you, murder in his eyes. There was no time to act; you took off running down a side path, the angel hot on your heels and the sound of Gadreel shouting after you to run faster fading in the distance. Gravel crunched underfoot as you ran this way and that, unable to shake your pursuer. You felt fingers graze the back of your jacket, missing you by a hairsbreadth. With a frustrated snarl, he redoubled his efforts, blade at the ready.

Desperate, weaponless, you turned a sharp corner, only to slide as the gravel covered ground gave way and sent you crashing to your knees. Thinking quickly, you grabbed a handful of dirt and flung it at the angel’s face. He let out a shout, wiping at his eyes, though the grip on his weapon never loosened as you’d hoped. Scrambling to your feet, you took off running again, anxious to get some distance between you and the enraged angel.

How was it possible for everything to go so wrong, so quickly? This was supposed to be an easy job, a milk run- instead you found yourself darting down pathways and ducking around the hollowed out husks of abandoned cars, frantic to find lover and get the Hell out of dodge. The only the sounds were of your own harsh breathing and wild heartbeat fluttering in your ears, your feet pounding along the dirt floor.

Your torso throbbed with pain, your earlier fall having done your wounded flesh no favors. Hands bloodied and studded with gravel, a crimson stain growing across your chest, and without the only weapon that could actually be useful against an angel, you were running out of options. Crouching behind the charred and twisted remains of an old SUV, you bit down on your bottom lip as you prodded at your injuries, forcing fresh blood to the surface and got to work painting an angel banishing sigil on the side of the car.

You had just finished the last symbol when a hand reached down from behind and yanked you back by the collar, cutting off your air supply with a choked gasp. Arms flailing, you struggled to pitch yourself forward, ignoring the bite of your collar digging into your throat long enough to slam a bloody palm down on the sigil. Your assailant let out a cry of rage as the ancient power slammed into him, and he disappeared in a brilliant flare of white.

Falling against the car, great gasping coughs racking your body at the return of oxygen, you allowed yourself a moment to regain your breath. Glancing about to make sure the light hadn’t attracted yet another opponent, luck was on your side when you caught sight of the nameless angel’s blade lying in the dirt at your feet; bastard must have dropped it before he was sent flying. You quickly snatched it up, relieved to be armed once more. Rising to stand, you wiped your bloody hands clean and squared your shoulders, ready to head back into the fray.

Moving swiftly but cautiously, you made your way back to the spot where you were ambushed, alert for any sign of movement. Before long, you could hear voices floating through the air, and you followed the sound to a horrifying sight. Gadreel, his arms held back by one of the angels, while two more stood in front of him. A fourth body lay on the ground nearby, not far from the two you’d killed, the charred outline of wings burned into the dirt.

One of the angels in front of Gadreel toyed with the blade in his hands, tossing it back and forth. You stifled an alarmed cry when he sliced a thin line down the side of Gadreel’s face with the tip of his angel blade, a vicious smirk twisting his lips. Gadreel didn’t so much as flinch, staring the angel dead in the eyes. Seeing that stone cold resolve reminded you that your lover had survived the worst that Heaven’s prisons had to offer- he could survive this too. He  _would_ survive this.

Slinking closer, careful to keep out of sight, you could hear the vile words the apparent ringleader was spewing, calling Gadreel a traitor, a failure, a killer of kin. Your lover bore the insults with stoicism, his face betraying no emotion. Forcing your own rage and anger down, you crept closer still. Not far from the dead angels littering the ground were the twisted remains of a VW bug, just large enough to shield you from view.

With one eye on Gadreel and his captors, you crept forward, body low to the ground, and carefully wiggled your original angel blade free from the back of your second ill-fated opponent. Though you already had a weapon, it never hurt to carry a spare, a lesson drilled into you over the years. Tucking it into your boot, you readied yourself to attack when you heard a sound that sent ice through your veins: Gadreel screaming.

Abandoning all caution, you sprang from your hiding spot, blade at the ready. Gadreel’s captors froze, caught off guard by your sudden appearance. The leader’s hands were outstretched off to the side of Gadreel, seemingly gripping onto thin air. The silver blade was stained red, crimson pooling in the dirt at his feet. Your love’s face was twisted in agony, though that paled in comparison to the terror in his eyes when you reappeared.

“Run, my light! Go, hurry!”

You ignored him, charging forward recklessly. The lead angel was quicker though, and in a flash, the tip of his blade was pointed at Gadreel’s throat. Now it was your turn to freeze in your tracks, skidding to a halt, eyes wide and heart pounding with fear. The razor sharp point grazed Gadreel’s skin as he struggled against the grip of the angel at his back. She twisted his arms even further, but he didn’t seem to notice or care, frantic with worry for you.

“Drop your weapon,” he instructed, “or I won’t hesitate to end him.”

You did so immediately, hands coming up as you kicked your stolen blade to the side. You knew you had to remain calm and start looking for a way to get out of this mess, but all rational thought was overridden by paralyzing fear as you watched the blade graze Gadreel’s neck. A flick of the wrist is all it would take to end his life, and yours with it. “Please don’t hurt him.”

He didn’t bother to answer as the third angel stalked towards you. You offered no resistance when he grabbed you by the hair, kicking your legs out from under you and sending you crashing to your knees. The lead angel eyed you both with a look of disgust. “So the rumors are true- you really have no shame, do you Gadreel? Rolling around in the dirt and muck with a human, a hunter no less. How many of our kind has your human whore killed? Are her hands as black with the blood of angels as your own?”

“Release her, Samael,” Gadreel commanded, his voice edged with fear, “take me if you wish, just let her go.”

“You are in no position to be issuing demands.”

“Please, brother!”

You yelped in pain, the grip on your hair tightening. Samael spit out, “I am not your brother, traitor! You lost the right to call any of us by that name when you attacked your own kind!”

Cool metal ghosted across your neck with a sharp sting. Blood trickled down your throat hot and sticky, but you didn’t give them the satisfaction of reacting. Gadreel, on the other hand, strained to get to you, begging them to take him, just him. Every plea seemed to enrage Samael more, and he nodded at the one holding you. Another line was carved into your skin, the blade digging deeper this time.

Smiling in vicious satisfaction, Samael turned his attention back to Gadreel, once again slashing at the empty space next to him with his blade. Gadreel cried out in anguish, blood splashing to the ground in steady streams. Horrified, you realized that Samael was cutting his  _wings_. Gadreel had told you once, ages ago, that angel wings were incredibly sensitive, and it was considered the height of poor manners for one angel to touch another’s wings without permission. Knowing that Samael was deliberately targeting Gadreel’s wings sent a rage unlike anything you’d ever felt before coursing through you.

Shoving at the hand holding the blade to your throat, you pulled your hidden weapon from your boot. Stabbing back, your aim struck true, grace flaring to life as soft flesh gave way to unyielding metal. Gadreel was quick to take advantage; before she could react, Gadreel broke free of the angel holding his arms. You tossed your blade to him; snatching it from the air, he buried it in Samael’s chest.

Rushing to his side, you wrapped an arm around him when he stumbled, pain twisting his features. Half sick with worry, you turned on the last remaining angel, careful to keep from jostling Gadreel too much as you reached down and pulled the angel blade free of Samael’s torso. Outnumbered, her allies dead or banished, she fled before either of you could take another step closer.

The sudden stillness was nerve-wrecking, only the sound of your own harsh breathing and Gadreel’s pained groans disturbing the silence. Threat gone for now, Gadreel could no longer keep up the pretense and sagged against you, nearly knocking you off your feet. Keenly aware that the angel could return any moment with reinforcements, you staggered to your car, stumbling under the strain of carrying a half conscious Gadreel.

Coaxing him into the backseat, you tried to be as gentle as possible as you helped him stretch his tall frame across the seat, blood already beginning to pool beneath him. Collapsing into the driver’s seat, you winced at the sharp pain radiating from your torso. Carrying Gadreel- not to mention the fight with the angels- had reopened your own injury, the throbbing pain an unkind reminder.

Gritting your teeth, you shrugged out of your jacket and balled it up, pressing the bundle of fabric to your wound to help staunch the flow of blood. Driving back to your motel room one handed and bleeding was no easy feat, but you managed, once again having to help Gadreel to his feet. Luckily for you, no one was around to see the two of you lurch through the door, clothes torn and covered in blood.

“Gad,” you panted as you helped lower him to the bed, “are you gonna be okay if I put up some angel wardings?”

“Do it,” he grunted, “I shall be well enough, my love, and we cannot risk them finding us.”

Digging through your duffle for a marker, the walls were soon covered in sigils shielding you from unfriendly eyes. You glanced over at Gadreel, worried about the effect the symbols would have on his ability to heal himself. Facedown on the mattress, he tried his best to muffle his groans with the scratchy comforter. Lifting his head, he eyed you blearily, his concerned gaze tracing over the scarlet staining your shirt.

“Dear one, your injuries…allow me to heal you…”

“Don’t you dare,” you ordered, stopping him from rising. “This is nothing; I doubt I’ll even need stitches. I’m more worried about you- how are your wings?”

The agonized look on his face was answer enough. “I fear Samael was rather…proficient.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“My grace will heal the worst of the damage, but…perhaps you can help staunch the bleeding? But only once your own injuries have been seen to.” His tone left no room for argument.

Knowing it was pointless to try and persuade him to let you tend to him first, you agreed, and trudged to the bathroom, shirking your bloodstained clothes along the way. Wiping away the dried blood covering your skin, you were relieved to find that the injury had already started clotting; you  _hated_  giving yourself stitches. A little rubbing alcohol and some gauze, and you were good as could be expected.

Filling a bowl with warm water, you grabbed a washcloth and the first aid kit before returning to Gadreel. He hadn’t moved save to shed his jacket and shirts, leaving his bare chest on display. Normally a welcome sight, the view was tainted by the myriad bruises and cuts scattered across his freckled skin. Although there were many of them, none seemed to be causing him much pain, and even as you watched, they began to heal and fade away.

Gadreel stirred at the sound of your return, instructing you to close your eyes. Doing as you were told, you still had to glance away when a brilliant light illuminated the room, hardly dulled at all by your eyelids. Only when the divine radiance faded to the more mundane artificial glow of the motel lamps did you chance opening your eyes. An involuntary gasp escaped before you could stifle it when you finally caught sight of just how badly Gadreel’s wings had been injured.

He hadn’t been exaggerating when he said Samael was efficient. Gadreel’s wings were coated in blood, the crimson smears barely visible against the sparse black feathers. There were at least half a dozen lacerations sliced into the skeletal structure, each bleeding sluggishly, the faint glow of grace shining dully. Leathery scars- some old, some more recent- covered his wings in large patches, new feathers poking around the thick tissue despite the damages.

You knew, of course, about some of what had been done to him in Heaven’s prisons, the torment he’d been forced to endure, but seeing the evidence of his mistreatment with your own eyes…nothing could have prepared you for this. Remorse filled you at the evidence of such painful treatment at the hands of his family, your eyes burning with unshed tears. Gadreel refused to meet your gaze, head and wings drooping lower the longer you stared. You realized now why he’d only ever shown you the shadowed outline of his wings, never revealing them in the flesh- he was ashamed.

Snapping to attention, you set aside the bowl and first aid kit and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, careful to avoid brushing against his wings. He melted into you, arms winding around your waist, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he allowed himself to be comforted. Murmured words of endearment fell from your lips in a steady stream as you stroked his hair and back, cradling him to you as if to shield him from all the hurts and troubles of his past.

Eventually you pulled away, determined to help him in anyway you could. Wordlessly urging him to sit, you dampened the washcloth and got to work. With a delicacy you didn’t even know you were capable of, you gently cleaned the gashes criss-crossing his wings. The cloth was red within minutes, the water taking on a pink tinge. You didn’t dare use the alcohol, fearful of the pain it would cause him.

Gadreel was silent the entire time, his jaw clenched tight; despite your best efforts, you knew he had to be in agony. Guilt surged through you as you dabbed away the last of the blood from the first cut, impulsively dropping a whisper of a kiss to the injury before moving on to the next. Unnoticed by you, Gadreel relaxed minutely at the barely there touch, the depth of your love almost enough to override the pain.

On you went, cleaning each of his wounds with a tenderness never shown to him before. You kissed each of his injuries, as if the action itself would be enough to heal them, unaware of the tears steadily dripping down your face. No one should be forced to endure this kind of torture, and you vowed to yourself that nobody would ever hurt your angel like this again. Come hell or highwater, they would have to get through you first.

More than an hour later, you were finally finished, tossing the ruined washcloth in the garbage and dumping the water down the bathroom sink. Splashing your face, you scrubbed away the tears before returning to the room. Gadreel held out the roll of gauze, quietly instructing you how to wrap the bandages around his wings. You carefully followed his directions, relieved that you had just enough gauze to wrap all of his wounds. Running a gentle hand down his back, you placed one last kiss to each of them before he withdrew them, the black feathers disappearing from view.

His mouth was on yours before you could speak, kissing you with an intensity that took your breath away. You cupped his face, drawing him closer still as your lips moved against each other urgently. The love and devotion you felt for one another shone through with each press of your lips, an unspoken promise that you would always be there no matter what to tend to each other’s hurts.

Pulling away to allow you some air, he rested his forehead against your own, content to hold you and be held by you. You remained like that, pressed heart to heart, for several minutes, lost in a world all your own. Eventually, the day’s events caught up with you and although you were grimy with junkyard dust, you shed your shoes and jeans and crawled into bed, helping Gadreel out of his own clothes before tugging him in beside you.

Curling around one another, you on your back and he on his stomach, you held each other close. If you went upstairs when you died- and that was a big If, all things considered- this would be your Heaven. Injured, caked in dried blood and dirt, you couldn’t imagine a place you’d rather be than in your angel’s arms. Here, you’d truly found paradise.


End file.
